


Follow me

by stripteas



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Birthday Party, Canon-Typical Violence, Day 7: Dream, Dreams and Nightmares, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, M/M, Modern AU, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sharing a Bed, Sylvain Week (Fire Emblem), Sylvain Week 2020, Sylvain taking a hit for his friends as always, Sylvain's Birthday, all prompts really, this time we HAVE A BETA MY DUDES WAHOO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripteas/pseuds/stripteas
Summary: Sylvain week 2020 Day 7: Dreams (or Nightmares)Sylvain has a dream.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Follow me

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I'd do anything for Sylvain week but oh well here's something. I really just fit all the previous prompts under one bracket that is today's prompt. Hope you enjoy!

He wasn’t thinking. He really never does in those moments. It’s one of the reasons why he was never able to answer Felix’s angry _ what do you think you’re doings  _ every time he got badly injured. He just acts on instinct, and in that moment that meant shoving Ingrid as far away as he could and hit her with a cushioning spell. Hopefully she would forgive him later. If there was a  _ later  _ , that is. 

For a moment there he thought of having acted for nothing, that the javelin of light’s trajectory was way off and he got away with a scalded back. It wasn’t until he found himself on the ground instead of his horse that the pain got to him, tearing desperate wails out of his throat and making him scramble for shelter like a half-dead bug. He could not escape it, as it clung to him searing and white, keeping him from even processing what was going on. 

Sylvain woke up with a start. 

_ A dream. Just a dream, _ he thought. His heart was still hammering in his chest, the image of burnt skin and melted black armour still clear in his head, but  _ it was not real _ . The only real worry in this life right now was the smell of sweat and the shirt sticking to his chest. 

Way to start his birthday.

Well, it wasn’t really his birthday. It was more of a birth-weekend, as Annette put it. With his birthday falling on a Friday this year, her and Mercedes had come up with the idea of having him celebrate the whole weekend. They even went as far as offering their and Dorothea’s apartment as venue, since it was the biggest out of the whole friend group. Sylvain liked to party, yes, but he thought for a weekend-long celebration to be too much. Besides, they were not college students anymore, but adults with jobs and a worse tolerance of alcohol; they couldn’t just party on three consecutive nights and assume to be ready for work on Monday. In the end he somehow got Annette to change her mind and hold only one party on Saturday night, with the sole condition of allowing a karaoke contest. 

His train of thought was interrupted by a hand on his chest. His thrashing around must have woken Felix up. 

“You alright?” Felix’s other hand came to Sylvain’s cheek. 

“Yeah, just a bad dream.” Sylvain pressed against the cold skin and closed his eyes. His brow was sweaty too, but he was still too shaken to care about the sticky feeling on his skin. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

Sylvain shook his head. 

“C’mere...” And with that Felix put an arm around him. Sylvain followed suit and placed his head on his lover’s chest, trying to focus on the steady heartbeat beneath him. “Rest a little longer.” 

The second time Sylvain woke up sunlight was seeping through the curtains onto the bedroom floor. Felix’s fingers were running through his hair, stroking gently and massaging the scalp at times. He still felt a little groggy, but it was nothing a nice shower wouldn’t wash away. 

As if on cue –maybe Sylvain’s head was indeed open and Felix was merely browsing through his thoughts– Felix pressed his lips against Sylvain’s forehead before whispering: “Shower?” 

Sylvain didn’t believe for a second that his lover’s intentions were as innocent as to simply massage the stress off his back. Felix knew all too well which knots to work on to pull pretty sounds out of Sylvain, moans of equal pleasure and pain as the tension seeped out like a venom off his skin to trickle down the drain. It wasn’t long before the touches grew impatient, their nature more primal as the men aimed not to heal one another but to crash and burn together, to experience destruction and rise from it moulded together as one again, 

and again,

_ and again…  _

Sylvain didn’t mind the red trails on his back. Better yet, he relished in them, the slight sting that came with every movement reminding him of how he’d marked Felix just as much. He considered covering them, but quickly decided against it. Instead, he put on a see-through shirt that didn’t quite show them off as much as it framed them beneath an intricate pattern of lace roses. It almost looked like the roses had pricked Sylvain’s back with their thorns. He would probably get scolded by Ingrid or receive some sassy remarks from Dorothea, but it didn’t matter. There was a time when those red marks were self-inflicted lashings, when they were not made out of love but only hatred for the world and for himself. Now that the situation was different Sylvain wore them with no shame. He liked that much better.

As the guest of honour Sylvain was not only allowed, but  _ expected  _ by Annette to be late. He didn’t remember his friend ever caring about such etiquette, so it struck him as odd, but he didn’t mind. It all came back to him now, as greeting him and Felix at the door was not the petite redhead nor any of her roommates, but a tall and hulking figure. 

“Dedue!” Sylvain all but launched himself at the man before him, letting out a surprised yelp when he was hoisted off the ground. 

Wait. If Dedue was there that must have meant... 

“Dima, catc—” 

“Hey! No rugby in this household!” Ashe’s voice rang from the open-space kitchen where he was helping Mercedes. Sylvain was released and he turned to greet Dimitri, who –despite not being allowed to toss or tackle Sylvain– still probably broke a few of the redhead’s ribs in a crushing hug. Ashe limited himself to a half-hug given that his hands were sticky with chocolate frosting. 

Dimitri was Sylvain’s childhood friend and later his college roommate along with Dedue and Ashe. Were it not for the two latter, Sylvain and Dimitri would have probably starved to death on their first week of studies, as they had no culinary skills whatsoever and were used to a home kitchen staff. During college Sylvain’s three roommates came up with a project for a hotel and restaurant, leading them to move to Fhirdiad after graduation in order to realise it. It was still a work in progress and therefore needed the attention of all three founders, which meant they had rarely the time to visit. Their presence was unexpected and filled Sylvain with joy. 

He made the round of the house to greet the rest of his friends and catch up on their lives. Bernadetta had been accepted by The Enbarr News to publish her weekly short stories; Hilda and Marianne shared with Sylvain their antics with the animals at the shelter they work at; at some point Sylvain had to calm Felix and Ingrid down after their discussion on the upcoming national fencing tournaments got too heated. 

It was like their academy days all over again, when they would be crammed in someone’s apartment to share small victories like the end of finals week or someone getting a job and engaging in silly shenanigans. Sylvain missed it, but he was also glad that each of them had found their own place in life. As students they feared growing up, having to fill a shape dictated to them at birth, like overwatered flower buds pressured into blooming. Now Sylvain felt like he was staring at a beautiful bouquet of flowers: each different and equally pretty together or by themselves. He could even smell it, a sweet smell of daffodils and forget-me-nots. It must come from the scented candles Dorothea had lit around the house. 

Sylvain danced both alone and with each of his friends individually. It gave him an opportunity to chat with them some more without worrying about any awkward pauses. Not that there were any; everybody was so incredibly chatty with him that he almost said no words. It was also a little more intimate than just standing beside each other drinks in hand. The only problem was that it made him incredibly thirsty. 

“I hope you like how it turned out.” Sylvain startled when Mercedes materialised at his side while he was getting some punch. “I’m so sorry we weren’t good enough.” 

“What are you talking about? Mercie, this is more than enough.” Sylvain took a sip while looking over the other people in the room. When he turned his friend had disappeared. 

Huh. What was that all about? 

He felt a terrible need to find Felix, and as another slow song came up Sylvain took it upon himself to pull him onto the dancefloor (the living room) and into his arms. No matter how long they were together, he never got bored of the way their bodies seemed to be made to fit into a hug. It was like the ancient tales told, about people once living as one with their lover or something. Sylvain could not recall clearly. Must be the alcohol’s fault. 

“You ready?” Felix whispered against his ear, almost inaudible. 

“For what? Got another surprise for m—” 

“I love you,” Felix interrupted him, “I know you can’t answer me, but know that I love you and that’s why I want to keep our promise.” 

Sylvain’s back started feeling hotter, the scratches feeling as if somebody was rubbing salt in them. 

“I can’t stand to walk another step on this earth if you’re not by my side,” Felix said before pressing his lips to Sylvain’s. 

It all came back to him.

_ A dream. Just a dream. _

Such a shame Sylvain could not prolong his stay. Their time was almost up, the walls had already turned to dark grey mist and the pain was now slicing through Sylvain’s back as if each breath brought a lashing to it. He looked into Felix’s eyes one last time before kissing him. 

It hurt to move. It hurt to stay still. 

Soon it would be over, at least. 

Besides, he won’t be alone. Felix promised to follow him. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I thought about adding some Mercedes pov but found it superfluous.  
> To clarify: Sylvain’s burns were untreatable and Mercedes cast a dream on him (the modern au). His friends each took their time to say goodbye and Felix asked Mercedes for enough poison for two, as he couldn’t fathom living a day without Sylvain. They fell into eternal sleep together.
> 
> I want to thank my dear Nya for taking the time to beta. Ily sweetheart ;D
> 
> And thank _you_ for reading! Leave kudos or even a comment to tell me how you liked it
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/stripteas13)


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